


The Further Adventures of Frank McPike

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: The X-Files, Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:00:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: When the OCB shut down, Frank ended up with some rather unusual assignments.  Also, Vinnie's apparently alive and well, but he's not in this story.





	The Further Adventures of Frank McPike

Frank pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he could feel coming on. "Your suspect, Mr. Ackroyd, did what?"

Agent Mulder mumbled something. His partner was sitting quietly next to him, no more involved than she would have been with a stranger on a bus who had begun to speak in tongues. Frank had heard her nickname in the Bureau was the Teflon Partner. No matter how crazy Mulder was, none of it ever stuck to Scully.

"I didn't quite get that," Frank said. He knew it was going to be another one of Mulder's crazy stories, and he didn't particularly want to hear it, but he didn't have a choice. Since the OCB was no more, he'd been rotating through the Bureau. ("Like a ballerina, Frank?" Vince had said when he'd told him about his new assignment as substitute Deputy Assistant Director. One thing you could say about Mulder, he wasn't a smart ass. And Scully was prettier than Vince. A little bit prettier, anyway.)

"He said our suspect turned into a puddle of water," Scully said. "Spontaneously," she added, still with that _I had nothing to do with this,_ tone.

"A puddle of water," Frank repeated. "Did you arrest the puddle of water, Agent Mulder?"

Scully closed her eyes as Mulder put his briefcase on Frank's desk and opened it. Frank was half-tempted to tell him to forget it and get out of his office, but a part of him just had to know.

Mulder—and even Mulder was starting to look as though he wished this whole thing wasn't happening—Mulder took out a thermos, which he set next to the briefcase.

"He borrowed a sponge from Mrs. Ackroyd to, um, mop up her husband," Scully said. "I'm not entirely sure how we'll prosecute."

"Scully, he can't stay like this forever," Mulder said. "We have do do something. He was transforming into his liquid form and drowning people, then changing back."

Frank picked up the thermos. "You just happened to have a thermos with you?" he asked. He didn't know what else to say. He looked at the thermos. "Mr. Ackroyd can't have been a very large man," Frank added.

"I'd read about this phenomenon before," Mulder said, "So I came prepared."

"That was very, um, foresighted of you, Agent Mulder," Frank said. "What do you propose we do with—" motioning with the thermos "—Mr. Ackroyd?"

"Well, there's an ancient ceremony—"

"An ancient ceremony," Frank interrupted. "An ancient—" He stood up suddenly. "Why don't we just leave Mr. Ackroyd in his thermos?"

"Sir, I have to say, I agree with my partner," Scully said. Mulder was just standing there gobsmacked. "Difficult as it may be, we really need to bring Mr. Ackroyd back to his, um, solid form so he can be prosecuted. Our prosecution rate is a little low." She shot Mulder a look when she said this last.

"Your prosecution rate is a little low?" Frank yelled. He hadn't planned to yell, but dammit, who was behind these assignments he was getting? Before this rotation deal, he'd been stuck for three weeks in a car in New York fucking City, a place he hated just on general principles, staking out some lowlife and listening to Lenny Brisco tell him war stories about working the streets of New fucking York fucking City! "Your prosecution rate is low?! You're out there hunting down ghoulies and gheasties and long-leggedy beasties! Of course your prosecution rate is low! What do you expect? At least you've got an excuse! I spent three years with an agent whose only prosecution was a guy he was trying to keep out of prison! Now get out of my office!"

When they were gone, Frank took Mr. Ackroyd to his private washroom and flushed him down the toilet.

**Author's Note:**

> leviathan0999.livejournal.com made some very interesting suggestions to my offer of story writing. This is my response to one of them. Well, one and a tiny bit of another.


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